


Fifty Shades of Sanity

by Viola Valentin (ViolaValentin)



Category: 50 Shades of Grey - E. L. James, Fifty Shades of Grey (2015), Fifty Shades of Grey - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crime Scenes, Eventual Romance, F/M, Psychological Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 01:12:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3631083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViolaValentin/pseuds/Viola%20Valentin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Anastasia Steele, a young rising star in the psychology world, is a forensic psychologist working for the FBI. Ana is assigned to evaluate the mental condition of Christian Grey. But Grey is a complicated man, maybe the most complicated and troubled that she's ever analysed. Can Ana weave her way through Grey's personality and uncover what truly happened?</p><p>(Alternate Universe, Anastasia hasn't interviewed Christian Grey and this story takes place approximately three years later than when the first book starts.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fifty Shades of Sanity

Grey. That was the colour the coffee bar's walls donned. I let my pen roll across my shiny hardback notepad and stared at the paint. Head in my palms, my eyes scanned over the room. On one hand, given that my client's surname was "Grey", it was an appropriate meeting place. On the other hand, I doubted the bleak colour would benefit the mood and if I'd have known what the interior of this place was like, I'd have definitely chosen somewhere else.

At exactly 9.45, the bell chimed and the door swept open. As expected, Mr. Christian Grey stood at the entrance. Just like he'd claimed on the phone, Mr. Grey was always prompt. His appearance in person was identical to his appearance across all forms of media. Not a single strand of hair lay out of place. Not a single crease lay upon his shirt, tie, trousers or blazer. And not a single scuff lay on his gleaming black shoes. It was all under his control. The only imperfection was the crease carved into his forehead. Remembering that it was I who was keeping him waiting, I rose to my feet. As I did so, my chair squeaked across the white polished tiles. It was only when I stood in front of him that I realised how meagre my stature was compared to his. Instinctively, my eyes wanted to trail down to his shoes but I forced them to lock onto his. I held out a hand. It wobbled. I drew in a sharp breath. It stopped wobbling.

"Good morning, Mr. Grey. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He took my hand in his cool palm and gave it a firm shake. "No, no. The pleasure is all mine, Dr. Steele."

I smiled and gestured towards the table I'd been sitting at. "Can I get you a drink?"

Mr. Grey shook his head. "Can I get  _you_  a drink?"

I frowned. "Seeing that I arranged our meeting, that's my responsibility."

"Nonsense," he said with a chuckle, "It's my pleasure to do so."

I smiled, although my first impulse had been to narrow my eyes. My analysis of his appearance had concluded that he was very orderly and had his appearance completely under control. But our brief conversation indicated that it wasn't only his appearance that he sought control over. Either Mr. Grey was an extremely polite man or he liked to be in control of his encounters with people. Both were plausible. To be practically the King of the business world, he would have had to have been charismatic and of course, polite. And he would have had to have also been a natural leader with strong alpha male instincts. A natural instinct to dominate. Was his polite mannerisms simply a facade, or was he truly just a polite man and didn't realise his tendency to take the lead? That was a question that I couldn't yet answer. I needed more evidence to determine that. "That's very kind of you, Mr. Grey. English breakfast tea, please. Twinings if they have it."

Apparently it was Mr. Grey's turn to observe me. He raised an eyebrow. "Twinings breakfast tea?"

I nodded. "I studied for a short while at Cambridge."

He chuckled. "I see."

I smiled again and remained silent until he'd left. From the brief notes I'd read on Mr. Grey I'd expected that his case would be interesting, but I hadn't expected for his character to be even more fascinating. My eyes flickered to him over in the queue for coffee. He was watching me. I flashed him a smile. When he turned his back, I opened my notepad and picked up my pen. I titled the first blank page with "Mr. Christian Grey" and drew a wobbly line underneath. Below that, I drew a black circle in the red margin. After the red line I wrote, "A flawless appearance - suggests a deep care over his presentation." On the line below I continued, "Very polite - or perhaps simply likes to lead conversation and be in control." When I saw Mr. Grey approaching with a cup in one hand and mug in the other, I shut the notepad and pushed it back to where it had been.

"Thanks," I said and dragged the cup closer to me by its fine handle.

"You're most welcome, Dr. Steele." He took the seat opposite me and held both of his hands around the mug of coffee. He then looked up, straight at me. "I think that it'd have been better meeting somewhere more private." Then, he lowered his voice. "I can't leave my property without receiving stares and glares from anyone I pass. As I told you on the phone, given the circumstances I would rather not be seen in public."

I sipped my tea - a big mistake. A winced and put it down, almost spilling it across my lap. I felt a sharp sting across my tongue. "I understand, Mr. Grey but given those circumstances, I'd prefer not first meet you privately."

Mr. Grey sighed. "I'm not insane, Dr. Steele."

"That's for me to determine." Mr. Grey's face darkened, so instead I continued, "But let's discuss that later. Why don't you tell me about yourself first?"

Mr. Grey leant back in his chair, his eyes still on mine. For a moment, I thought he was going to refuse to answer. "I was adopted by Dr. Grace Grey and Carrick Grey when I was a young child. I grew up in Seattle with them and my adopted siblings, Mia and Elliot Grey. I started working when I was 15 as a landscaping job. I started to study at Harvard, but decided that creating my own business would be a better use my time and I proved that true."

"What did you study at Harvard?"

"Politics and Economics." Mr. Grey took a big gulp of his coffee and scrunched up his face, as though he could barely stand the taste of it. But I doubted that it was the taste of the coffee that made him pull that expression. "You claimed that this would be beneficial, but I can't see how." His tone was almost accusing.

I narrowed my eyes. "Have you ever seen a psychologist before, Mr. Grey?"

"No."

"Any therapists?"

Mr. Grey paused for a moment. "No."

"Why? Because you feared psychological therapy?"

Mr. Grey clenched his jaw but only briefly. "No."

"Then why are you so tense?"

Mr. Grey's hand had been seeking his mug but stopped midway. I saw his posture and facial muscles relax. "It's a new experience for me, Dr. Steele."

"Are you usually apprehensive of new situations?"

Mr. Grey frowned. "Perhaps."

I leant back in my chair and stared up at the white ceiling. This approach wasn't working; all I was receiving from Mr. Grey was one word answers. I needed to try a new tactic. "Why don't I tell you about myself?"

Mr. Grey smiled, probably from relief. "Go ahead, Dr. Steele"

"Well, the day I was born, my dad died. The man who I know as my dad was a man named Ray Steele. Him and my mother were married for years before they divorced. I could never accept my mother's third husband as my dad. I lived with them for a while but we really didn't get along and I moved back to live with Ray. I studied psychology at Washington State University and graduated as top of my class. I specialised in forensic psychology at Cambridge and then moved back over to Washington where I completed my Psy.D and trained as a clinical psychologist. Two years ago, I applied as a psychologist in FBI, where I had to assess the Mental Health of agents and whether they were psychologically fit or not. I helped them solve a few cases with suggestions about the criminal and now I am sometimes called to act as a consultant on various cases. I have also spoke in court several times about the mental state of the accused. And now? I have been assigned to evaluate your mental condition. And that, Mr. Grey, is everything about me."

"Everything? What about relationships?"

I shook my head. "I've never had time for that, Mr. Grey. There's a reason I qualified as a clinical psychologist at such a young age."

Mr. Grey's eyes widened. "How old are you, Dr. Steele?"

"Twenty four."

"And you've never received any male interest?"

I looked down, into my tea and shifted in my seat. "That's a very personal question, Mr. Grey."

But Mr. Grey stared at me with a raised eyebrow. Yes, he was definitely more comfortable when it was he who was asking the questions, when he was the one leading the conversation, when he was the one in control. Maybe it was better this way. There was no way I would learn anything about Mr. Grey unless he was comfortable enough to talk to me. Having said that, I was currently learning nothing about him and he was learning everything about me, but hopefully it would help to encourage him to speak more. "I have, but I turned every single one down."

"Why?"

I grit my teeth, but then quickly relaxed and smiled. "I wasn't interested."

Mr. Grey leant back in his chair, his eyes scanning all over me. "I suppose you turned down a lot, then."

I felt my cheeks warm up. "What do you mean?"

Mr. Grey leant forwards and lowered his voice. "You're an attractive, intelligent, successful woman, Dr. Steele."

The lower half of my face was on fire. I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath. Why was this getting to me? I'd received plenty of compliments almost identical to the one Mr. Grey had given me, yet none had affected me like this. I cleared my throat and sat upright. "Thank you, Mr. Grey. But I'd like to remind you that our relationship is strictly professional and as kind as your compliment is, it's crossed the line of professionalism."

"I apologise, Dr. Steele, I didn't intend to make you feel uncomfortable." The look in Mr. Grey's eyes said otherwise. "It was simply an observation."

I nodded. "I understand, Mr. Grey." I reached into my bag and pulled out my planner. "Unfortunately, I need to be going to my next appointment. When would be a convenient time to meet?"

"When would it be convenient for  _you_ , Dr. Steele?"

I tried to hide my frown. Again, he was being overly polite. "Uh, my next free slot is at 11.30 this Thursday."

Mr. Grey nodded. "Perfect. I will see you in two days time, then."

I reached into my bag again and pulled out a business card. "This is the address of my clinic."

Mr. Grey chuckled. "So you've determined that I'm not insane?"

"I've determined that you're safe enough to meet privately."

"Safe? I've been accused of double homicide."

I got to my feet. "You're the only criminal I'm currently evaluating. If anything happened to me, I doubt you'd even receive a trial and would be sent straight to prison. Besides, if my evaluation of you is favourable, then that will help your case in court."

"And what if it's unfavourable?"

"It doesn't matter. My aim is to uncover the truth and I will state that truth in court, to help the jury come to their decision. If you are innocent, then I will help you prove it with my evaluation of you. If you are guilty, then I will see to it that you're locked behind bars forever."

"And which do you think is the truth, Dr. Steele?"

I shook my head. "I have no basis to make that decision on yet." I held out my hand again, this time it didn't wobble. He took it and gave it a firm, business-like shake. "It's been a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Grey."

"The pleasure is all mine." I didn't like the way Mr. Grey grinned when he said 'pleasure'. As I turned around and left the coffee bar, I could feel Mr. Grey's gaze glued to me. And I was sure that his eyes were directed at my black pencil skirt. I rolled my eyes. Womaniser. The bell chimed once again as the door swung behind me.


End file.
